Selfish Need
by deadlyxenvy
Summary: He hoped what they had was love but maybe hope wasn't enough. When gruffness and selfishness mesh with need and stuborness something horrible and pleasent forms; one screwed up relationship. SanadaKirihara
1. A Rough Start

**Disclaimer:** Won't own PoT in my entire life

**Selfish Need**

The ball smacked against the wall satisfyingly as the junior ace of Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku moved to hit it again. Kirihara had been hitting the ball in relatively the same spot for almost an hour uncaring that his arm had begun to go numb from the repetitive action. Practice had ended hours ago for the team but he had no desire to leave the courts, his only thought was hitting the ball back at the wall. Screw whatever he needed to be doing right now for he didn't care one bit about anything.

Clenching his hand tighter around his racket his breathing sped up as he put all his aggression and troublesome thoughts into the force behind the ball. Without even noticing his eyes turned bloodshot his play style becoming more reckless as his mind entered a semi-numb state. Kirihara enjoyed being this way for it was so much easier to focus on smacking the ball as hard as he could then his own issues.

Imagining the shape of a person upon the wall he aimed to where their knees would be, then their head, side, arms, everywhere that would cause pain. Again and again until his eyes faded back to their normal color and he his body was left exhausted. Falling onto his knees using his racket as support the junior ace closed his eyes tightly before snarling to himself.

"Fucking hell," he muttered to himself before panting as he lifted himself to stand. Tossing his racket in the direction of his bag he rubbed his wrist absently while he let his body cool itself down. Grabbing his bag and stuffing his racket in it he slung it on his shoulder before leaving the courts with a bang of the gate behind him.

Running a hand through his curly mop of black hair Kirhara almost mourned his loss of a distraction as he headed towards his home his feet dragging along the sidewalk. There was no hurry in getting home as Kirhara knew no one would be waiting for him anyways. His mother was either at work or off in her own little world without a thought of her son, which suited him just fine. He didn't need some worried sick parent that was for sure.

Ignoring completely the throbbing of his arm the green eyed boy made his way down the sidewalk with no real destination in mind. There was nowhere really he could go now besides home or back where he came from. Well there was somewhere else he could go, a place no one who knew him would expect him to go, but at the moment it sounded a tad bit better then going home.

Turning down the next street he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans glad that he had changed out of his uniform long after practice had ended. Although he was sweaty and the humid air was only making it worse he preferred to be in his normal clothes. Jeans, a shirt that was black and white the colors cut diagonally down it, and plain old sneakers made up his outfit. Simple but that was the point.

Closing his eyes for a moment he quickened his step slightly growing impatient from doing nothing but walking. And all too soon he arrived at his destination, a relatively large traditional style Japanese house that was led to by a flight of stairs; he ambled up to the door before knocking with an impatient sigh. The junior ace was anything but patient if it didn't have to do with tennis and especially with the person who lived here despite how foolish that really was.

After only a few moments of waiting the door slid open revealing none other then the fukubuchou of Rikkai, Sanada. Looking the same as always with the exception of his clothing he stared at the junior ace for a moment before opening the door further to grant him entrance.

"Kirihara," he stated in greeting after the younger male had made it inside.

"Sanada," Kirihara responded regarding the other almost blankly with his green eyes. Though his eyes had nothing to do with how he actually felt right now. In reality the reasons why he had come here in the first place were rising to the surface, a strange need. Something he couldn't even explain to himself, didn't bother to.

Taking note of his sweaty appearance Sanada arched an eyebrow for a moment before turning away from him and walking down the hallway obviously expecting Kirihara to follow. And follow he did as he knew exactly where they were going to begin with due to the routine they had every time he came here. Oddly enough he had been here several times always without any notice beforehand and for the same reasons.

Reaching almost the end of the hallway Sanada stopped at a door before sliding it open and entering it as Kirihara followed soon after. Closing the door shut behind him his green hues barely registered the sight of the others bedroom before he moved to sit on the bed, flopping down on it in tiredness. Not even bothering to move slightly in order to make himself comfortable he shifted his gaze to his fukubuchou who was sitting at his desk.

"What were you doing?" Sanada asked while he continued whatever it was that he was doing at his desk, homework Kirhara would guess.

Shrugging his shoulders the junior ace hardly hesitated before answering. "What else? Practicing," he responded in his usual way shifting to lean against the headboard of the bed. Other then glancing at him Sanada did nothing though Kirhara didn't miss how his eyes narrowed for a moment. A sure sign that he had grated on his nerves but Kirhara was ignoring it like always.

With nothing more to say at the moment a silence fell over them but it was normal so neither noticed it much. The two of them weren't very articulate around each other to put it lightly, if they were then it probably consisted of yelling. Beginning to feel bored though he decided to rid himself of his boredom by starting the process to get what he came here for.

Putting his hands behind his head his green hues locked on the other as his hand absently messed with the covers of the bed. "Oi fukubuchou are you finished yet?" He asked in a bored voice that he knew would grate on the others nerves yet again.

Yet the only response he received was a simple 'no' as Sanada continued to work on whatever it was that he was doing. Narrowing his eyes slightly in irritation for a moment he rolled his eyes and looked away. That wasn't the reaction he wanted at all and he found himself once again wondering why he wasn't still hitting the ball against the wall. He didn't care that his arm had gone numb only a few minutes ago, he just wanted a distraction. A distraction from life, issues, anything that was real.

Sliding off the bed Kirhara walked around the room stopping every once and awhile to touch or look at something. Of course he already had seen everything in the room before but he was bored and looking at things provided a small distraction at least. Though it also seemed to finally gain the attention of Sanada for when Kirhara glanced over at him his eyes were narrowed slightly in agitation.

"Stop or leave," the fukubuchou ordered in his usual gruff way obviously wanting Kirhara to stop messing with his things.

Rolling his eyes Kirhara only continued what he was doing. "Fuck off, I'm not hurting anything," he replied rather stupidly without a care to any possible consequence.

Before he could even realize that Sanada had moved he felt the back of his hand collide painfully with his cheek causing him to stagger slightly. Hand dropping immediately to his side the junior ace blinked as he looked up at the obviously agitated Sanada. Raising his hand to his stinging cheek automatically he narrowed his own eyes into a glare.

"The hell was that for?" The junior ace muttered angrily not expecting a response. There was no doubt that he should have anticipated what had happened but that didn't nullify the fact that he felt it was undeserved. Lowering his hand again he noticed that Sanada had moved back to sit at his desk so the green eyed boy sat back down on the bed. Again this was something that had almost become a ritual for the two odd as that really was.

Silently urging the ritual to continue Klirhara was still unhappy that he hadn't gotten what he came here for, a distraction. Emitting an agitated sound in the back of his throat he stood up again to stand next to his fukubuchou's desk. "Now what are you doing?"

Seemingly ignoring the question Sanada ignored Kirhara who upon shifting his head to see what he was doing saw that he was reading a book. Slightly surprising but not really Kirhara thought that it was probably one for school anyways since the writing was entirely in english. Due to his poor skills at english he hadn't a clue what any of it said.

Without thinking before hand he grabbed the book from the desk before Sanada could realize what he was doing and sat back down on the bed. Not even having to look up to know that Sanada was glaring at him in his usual annoyed fashion Kirhara only continued trying to figure out what any of the words were but soon gave up.

Putting the book down beside him and ignoring the pointed look from the other he spoke up again. "What's it about?" He asked obviously meaning the book though not really caring what the answer was in the first place, it was just something to ask. That and the junior ace was still aiming for getting what he came here for.

"A famous American," was the short answer that he received. "Return it," Sanada once again ordered only to be ignored again as Kirhara grinned devilishly.

"No thanks," Kirihara said while taking the book into his hands once more as he grinned. Now he had a way to get what he wanted and he was fully intending to take it. Though instead of staying on the bed he got up again and walked back over to where Sanada was. Holding the book up in his hands he slid it on the desk while keeping one hand on it.

Eyeing him still with his narrowed gaze the fukubuchou conveyed simply with his eyes that his patience was thinning. "Kirhara," he said warningly though the junior ace simply ignored it again. When it was clear that Kirhara was neither going to give the book back or let go of it Sanada grabbed his wrist tightly until the junior ace eventually let go of it with a small hiss of pain.

Now it was Kirhara's turn to glare as he grasped his wrist for a moment which was slightly red for a few moments more. Deciding that he wasn't going to get his distraction this time he headed towards the door with an annoyed growl. Yet he found himself stopped as Sanada grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.

Arching a brow up at the fukubuchou he silently demanded a reason for why he had stopped him from leaving. When he got none he attempted to pull back away but Sanada only tightened his grip causing Kirihara to glare again. Before he could do anything else though he felt lips crash against his in a kiss which he readily returned.

Closing his eyes for a moment he focused on kissing the older male their lips pressing against each other in a rough kiss. Pressing himself against the fukubuchou he parted his lips as he felt the others tongue press against them then slip into his mouth. Feeling the others tongue swirl about in his mouth he moved his own to meet the other's rubbing against it.

This was what he had come for; this was the distraction he desired. To fulfill his own needs by someone he knew would do so but for a price. That was their screwed up relationship one that suited them just fine.

* * *

Hope that turned out okay though I'm not sure it did. I apologize for any oocness as I'm not the best at portraying Sanada or Kirihara for that matter. Please review if you liked it and I'll be working on the next chapter soon. Expect a darker side to Sanada and Kirhara's relationship


	2. Bad Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, highly doubt that anyone even thinks that I own this.

**Chapter 2: Bad Beginnings**

Rays of light flitted in through the junior ace's window slowly awakening the sleepy youth and illuminating the rather messy room. A soft groan escaped the form that was tangled within the blankets of his bed and the dark haired boy unhappily opened his emerald hues. It was fuck-tastically morning, Saturday morning, meaning there was too much crap to do that Kirihara didn't want to accomplish.

Snaking an arm up to cover his eyes from the annoying sunlight he squirmed around in his bed making it if possible messier. Memories from the other night flitted through his thoughts off and on like a recent dream that was beginning to fade. Despite his attempts to fall back asleep it was fruitless, so much so that he threw off his covers with a huff, revealing his slightly sweaty skin and boxers.

Emitting another groan Kirihara muttered to himself something like 'god damn sun' and ran a hand through his overly curly hair as he sat up. He needed a shower, badly, but was too lazy to move anymore then he already had. Instead the second year leaned over to grasp his cell phone flipping it open to check the time, he didn't have a clock in his room, nearly throwing it against the wall after reading the time.

12:30 P.M. Fucking shit.

Completely out of time to laze about in bed, not that he would have called it that, he scrambled off his bed with a scowl before walking into his bathroom. Turning the water on to what was surely a scalding temperature he carelessly discarded of his clothing throwing it onto the floor. Stepping into the shower a low hiss escaped him as the water rained down on his pale skin.

In a matter of minutes his skin had turned pink while he continued on with his shower not caring in the least as to the temperature of said water. Turning so that the water cascaded down his back he closed his eyes as his muscles slowly relaxed. Sweat and grime washed off the junior ace's body all time constraints lost the shower slowly wakening him fully.

Opening his bright green eyes they scanned his body stopping on small bruises or cuts upon his skin that were now fully visible in his wet, fully exposes state. At least Sanada learned not leave too many stupid marks in obvious places besides his cheek anymore. The fukubuchou never restrained himself from leaving red marks on his cheek, why was beyond Kirihara, but everyone was accustomed to seeing that anyways due to all his losses.

Letting his fingers slid across his skin they stopped upon reaching a darker bruise lightly raking over it causing a small flicker of pain, just a sting. The hot water still raining down on his skin his fingers lingered over the bruise for a moment more before rising to rub his slightly reddened cheek. Shaking his head to himself, what the _hell_ was he doing, he hurried through the rest of his shower finally remembering how little time he had left.

Wrapping a towel around his waist once he had dried off some the black haired boy reentered his room and began rummaging around for something to wear. Picking a red and black shirt and some shorts that seemed to be clean he slipped on a new pair of boxers before getting dressed. Whoever decided that it was a damn good idea to have so much to do on a Saturday was crazy in his mind and with a scowl Kirihara grabbed his stuff and headed out the door.

Hardly in a good mood, he wanted to sleep goddamnit, Rikkai's junior ace headed down the sidewalk in the direction of his destination. Honestly he preferred having nothing to do, like the other day, instead of all this shit that wasted his time. But he hadn't a choice in it all and so quickened his pace with the reminder of the time.

Where he was going was simple, a familiar hospital, yet that didn't raise his mood any at all especially when he realized he had forgotten his cell at home. Scowl still upon his lips he was about three seconds from his 'bloodshot' mode if someone were to piss him off for more reasons then he cared to admit to himself. He was going to meet the rest of his teammates for their visit with Yukimura-buchou but he didn't even feel like going today. It was a damn Saturday, he should be able to do what he wanted, and seeing Sanada again so soon wasn't on the top of his 'to-do-list'.

Hands stuffed agitatedly into his pockets the curly haired youth narrowed his eyes down at the sidewalk as he continued on his way to the hospital. Without his cell he hadn't a clue as to the time, didn't really care either, and it was without a doubt that he was already late meaning that the whole team was waiting on him. How joyful.

Quickening his pace slightly only because he wasn't in a mood to deal with annoyed senpai's it wasn't much longer before the hospital came into his view. Leveling his dark hues with the building he scowled at it for a moment unwilling to meet with the others and deal with what was sure to be a long visit. Shaking his head to himself the junior ace made his way inside unsurprised when he was accosted moments later.

"Yo, brattling it's about time!" The trickster yelled while moving beside Kirihara to hit his shoulder and was followed by the rest of the team who swarmed around him.

Scowling up at Niou the youngest Rikkai member ignored the rest of his teammates, especially there similar looks of annoyance. "Shut it Niou-senpai," mumbling back response Kirihara pushed away the others hand his eyes straying to the others. He really wished that he hadn't come now.

Yanagi glanced down at his watch before speaking in his cyborg-like voice giving his own input, "you're 45 minutes and two point three seconds late Kirihara."

Rolling his eyes at the data mans precise measure the green eyed youth muttered a 'whatever' under his breath while continuing to ignore his senpai taichi's obvious annoyance with him. Hell they could bother him more then even his teachers at times so why they were mad at him was beyond him. At least now they could see buchou and everyone would be too distracted to mess with him very much. Or so was his hope at any rate.

"Yukimura is waiting," came the deep slightly monotonic voice from Sanada who was standing towards the back an impatient look on his face. It brought the curly haired males attention to him which caused his lips to turn downwards even further into a frown. Another downside to meeting the others was having to see Sanada so soon again. Not that he even expected to get a bit of attention from the fukubuchou that day. After all it was Yukimura that they were here to see and Kirihara expected nothing different to happen then any other time.

"Now that were all here we can go in," spoke the gentlemen casually as he stood next to his doubles partner adjusting his glasses. The rest of the team either nodded absently or in some way agreed with him with the exception of Kirihara who just sort of stood there. All he wanted was to get in and out of the buchou's room; soon too.

Finally filing into the blue haired buchou's room the team of Rikkai settled in their usual places about the room. Sanada and Yanagi settled right next to Yukimura's bed while Niou and Yagyuu were close by but at the foot of the bed instead. The other doubles partners, Marui and Jackel, settled near one of the walls with the redhead blowing bubbles every few minutes the popping noise slightly obnoxious. And lastly the junior ace simply sat on the window sill as far away from everyone as possible preferring it that way.

It wasn't hard to see the levels of 'hierarchy' within the team, hell it was probably obvious to even the idiots on Rokkaku, and Kirihara found he was of course on the bottom. Lovely. But that didn't really matter he thought as the three demons began conversing with each other. He still had his goals and one day he would show them all up and that was good enough for him.

Sitting in the same exact spot nearly two hours later Kirihara was about to get up and leave. The entire duration of the visit had been filled with Yukimura-buchou, Sanda-fukubuchou, and Yanagi-senpai conversing about various aspects of the team. Occasionally one of the others would but in with some story or whatever and change it up a bit though the kouhai couldn't bring himself to pay much attention.

His curly haired head rested against the window panes as his green eyes stared moodily at the tree demons. On and off throughout the visit he had been feeling this strange annoying sensation within his stomach that twisted and writhed as he watched them. It was a wholly uncomfortable feeling that reminded him of a stomach ache and needless to say he disliked it.

Yet as he watched Sanda's lips twitch into a tiny smile at something Yukimura had said the feeling sprang back to life. Somehow seeing the cap wearing fukubuchou smile at something he had no part in made that stupid feeling come alive. What the fuck?

Clenching his teeth in annoyance at both the demons smile and the stomach ache like feeling the short male felt his mood hit rock bottom.

He didn't even have a clue why, normally he could stand these visits but for some reason right now he couldn't. Kirihara had nothing against the buchou, he liked him well enough and respected him, but at the moment he didn't feel that way. Oddly the option of punching the wall seemed great if not highly desirable as a means of getting his frustrations out.

Ignoring all of this instead he ran a hand through his hair and shifted his vision to Marui and Jackle who were strangely having a conversation about what day of the week was better. Listening to them bicker about it (Jackel said Sundays were the best while Marui said Friday was) the seaweed headed male rolled his eyes. Odd as hell senpai.

Though when his emerald hues glanced over to Niou and Yagyuu he had to revoke his previous thought. There was no doubt that Yagyuu and Niou were a thousand times worse in the 'odd' category. For one the two were apparently talking about something he suspected as sex related, it was a safe bet when Niou was concerned, and he thought that maybe the two had switched clothing. He didn't remember Yagyuu standing on buchou's right side or wearing those shoes for that matter....

Okay so neither doubles one or doubles two were any better to look at then the demons who were _still_ conversing about tennis. Jesus, he loved tennis with all of his being but even he had to change the subject sometime. Not often but still.

Huffing to himself in a rather childlike manner the noise of the others faded out slightly as he slowly closed his eyes in an attempt to relax. Unfortunately (or was it fortunately?) the noise despite the odd topics and different levels of volume lulled him into a light sleep. Silly dreams flooded his sub consciousness that later he wouldn't even be aware of having but all the same kept him relaxed.

So maybe he could fall back asleep, just not in his bed.

* * *

A hand shook the sleeping male's shoulder firmly in an attempt to rise him from his slumber and at the sound of a small groan it was apparent that it had worked. Cracking his eyes open slowly as the feeling of sleep wore off just as slowly Kirihara spent a few seconds attempting to focus his eyes. Though when his eyes finally did focus he almost wished they hadn't for one cap wearing fukubuchou was the one shaking him awake.

Almost unconsciously letting out another groan the younger teens body jerked up in a somewhat attempt to get the others hand off it. This failing horribly the obviously larger hand continued to grip his shoulder as the owner of said hand scowled slightly. Obviously falling asleep in the hospital room in the middle of a visit wasn't something approved of.

Narrowing his eyes somewhat Sanada made sure that the kouhai was awake before speaking in a semi harsh tone. "Everyone else has left and visitor hours are over, get up, its time to go."

Informative, straight to the point, and yet reminiscent of a scolding. Yeah, that was Sanada alright, or at least when he was speaking to Kirihara.

Grumbling something along the line of 'whatever, I'm going, I'm going' Kirihara stood up jerking his shoulder purposely as a hint to make the other let go. And after a moment he did though the junior ace only understood why when he saw that Yukimura's azure eyes were watching them. Of course they were for after all it was his hospital room after all....

Moving his hands to smooth out, or attempt to, the wrinkles in his clothing he glanced at the two remaining people in the room. Shrugging to himself he stuffed his hands moodily into his pockets and left the room not even bothering to utter a goodbye. That and he was certain that if he stayed any longer that stomach ache (he was just going to call that odd feeling that) would come back.

Hearing part of a sentence from Yukimura as he left Kirihara found himself wishing that he hadn't.

"....-come back again, Sanada. Without the team next time."

As he made his way out the building that be damned stomach ache returned in full force a scowl finding its way onto his lips. At least now he could go do whatever the fuck he wanted, screw the rest of the stuff he had obligations to, they could wait. The thought of playing some street tennis and utterly defeating some looser had so much more appeal anyways. Maybe if he was lucky he'd run into a real opponent like that Echizen Ryoma or Atobe Keigo he'd heard so much about.

Either way being anywhere but where he just was sounded blissful. Then again as did shoving his stomach ache into oblivion...

Looks like tennis was just what he needed. Already he could feel excitement flood into his veins and that familiar yet odd sensation of nearly going into bloodshot mode. Whoever he played against wouldn't even get to know what he was like normally, all they would see would be blood red eyes and feel the ball hitting their skin hard enough to bleed.

Yeah, it was time for some good old fashioned tennis and as he headed towards his home to pick up his gear that scowl turned into a smirk. There was no Sanada around to stop him or senpai to watch him so by all means Kirihara was planning on going all out. To hell with the consequences that may or may not happen, after all the most anyone could do was hit him right?

Tch, like that had much of an effect any longer. After all pain he could handle and to fuck with caring about responsibilities and crap like that. He had goals to accomplish and beating the crap out of someone in a tennis game seemed like a great step towards them.

Emerald eyes glinting ever so slightly the teen broke into a run as adrenaline silently coursed through him, the anticipation of a game filling him up. There was still time to turn this day around after all and Kirihara intended to do just that.

* * *

And after months and months of nothing here is finally an update I promised. Though its not exactly what I wanted to be I'm hoping that it will do for the moment.

So review, they make me write faster. D


	3. Jealousy Leads to Interesting Things

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, obviously.

**Warnings:** …Sex in this chapter, lots of cussing too so don't read if your offended by any of it.

**Chapter 3: Jealousy Leads to Interesting Things**

Finally the green eyed regular of Rikkai stepped into the unofficial grounds of the infamous street courts. Well, not so much as infamous but known well enough to most of the tennis teams in the area; if you wanted a good unofficial match this was the place to go. And exactly where Kirihara Ayaka liked being when the not so subtle urge to go into his 'bloodshot' mode kicked in.

The place was simple, just a would be deserted area with painted white lines and a net to make out a court, but it was more then enough for Kirihara. So long as there was a useable court and someone to play against then he was good.

Letting his green eyes sweep over the place the second year was glad to see that there were plenty of people about. Sitting, or laying in some cases, upon various spots in the area were several slightly promising tennis players. Or what looked to be at any rate. Not recognizing any of them nor caring about that the young tennis player almost eagerly made his way further into the place.

Thankfully that be damned stomach ache (he still refused to think of it as anything else) hadn't bothered him again or at least not since he had gotten his tennis stuff. Any thoughts about the hospital visit earlier that day had been banished to the back of his mind giving him a slightly clear head. The fact that he didn't have any of his senpai around only served to make it that much easier to get worked up.

Of course this meant that the adrenaline continued to fill him up without any hindrance at all. Not such a good thing for any possible opponents, but what did he care? The ace was here to kick someone's ass in a game of tennis, even if that meant literally or not.

When he was done with his match he planned on the poor sucker not even being able to walk off the court. Poor soul.

Yellow and black tennis bag slung over his shoulder Kirihara already held his racket in his hand a sign that he was ready for a match. There was no use in wasting time later to unearth his racket from the bag and broadcasting that he was looking for a match seemed like a good idea. He didn't plan on loosing so an open invitation was just fine by him.

Hell, he'd even play a match against some stupid first year who hadn't a clue about what tennis was really like. Then again no one did, unless of course they'd played a match against any of his senpai taichi.

Whatever. Point was that the adrenaline hyped youth would face off against _any_ opponent.

Unceremoniously setting his bag down on the concrete near a batch of steps a grin slowly lit up his features. Finally he could loosen himself up, forget about anything and everything, and do what his body loved. Play tennis; his style of tennis to be exact.

Happily this soon proved to be an easy task as some cocky no-named guy called out an offer for a match. With a glance towards him he took note of nothing besides the fact that he looked average and an utterly boring typical opponent.

Lifting his lips even higher in the now ever present grin Kirihara nodded without pause before calling back a short 'yeah'. Barely wasting even a second to adjust his wrist weights he made his way to the court, meeting the low life at the net. Another scan of his opponent and he quickly noted that the other looked like he'd be no challenge at all.

Perfect.

Winning the choice to serve first or be served to he obviously chose the former. He was in no mood to wait since that fabulous rushing feeling within him kept growing as time ticked by. Oh how he wanted that familiar rush to fill him and to see this punk on the ground bleeding and writhing in pain.

Yeah he was sadistic, so what?

His opponent was confidently smirking back the idiot probably thinking that he would win this match. Most likely because of the Rikkai regulars meager height and without previous knowledge most thought him an easy opponent. Heh, fucking idiotic loser.

Walking back to the baseline, tennis ball in hand, he closed his eye with a chuckle and let his instincts take over as he used his trademark Knuckle Serve. Oh winning would be oh so sweet he could already tell.

With a cry of anguish from his opponent who had been hit on his arm by the ball he received conformation of that. Smirking the blood seeped into his eyes and it began.

"Say hello to pain weakling."

* * *

Laughing near madly as the match ended (_Game Set! 6 games to love!_) Kirihara received his wish as the poor blonde was carried off the court by his friends. The unfortunate male was bleeding from his knees, arms, and a small spot on his chest and didn't have the strength to move. A fact that made Kirihara's lips raise even higher in that smirk he had during the match.

_Oh yes_, he had needed that badly.

Shoulders raised high in a stance that spoke volumes about his confidence his eyes slowly drained of their blood red color. It was funny to him really, how that match had been so fun yet so easy, and that that he felt better then he had in weeks. Even the bruises hidden under his clothing didn't twinge in protest as they usually did from so much movement.

It was about damn time too. A certain Rikkai regular had stolen too much of the control and enjoyment in his life lately and Kirihara was doing something about that.

Noticing finally the late hour when the cheap, probably stolen, lights started to come to life around him he blinked looking around. Damn maybe that match had lasted longer then the ten minutes he thought it had. Shrugging in a show of indifference the only thought in his mind was playing another match.

Too bad no one here seemed to be able to give a good challenge, or at least a mild one. Earlier he had just wanted to let off some steam, see someone writhe in pain, but now he wanted to knock out the tension in his body in the way only a good match could.

Green eyes glancing around the second year couldn't help but smirk slightly as his eyes landed on someone he had seen before. A certain someone who might actually be a challenge if Kirihara believed the hype about the player's team.

Why he even remembered the face was unknown to him. Well not completely, he had an idea how. Yanagi-sempai once shared with him data on various teams around the area when he had bugged the male for a good fifteen minutes to do something. He never actually expected himself to _remember_ that knowledge though.

For crying out loud he hardly remembered that crap he learned in school.

Staring straight at the teen (someone from that prestigious rich bastard of a school Hyoutei) Kirihara didn't remember his name. Didn't really care either. Though he did remember that said teen was known for having some sort of odd stance when he played. Had some kind of catch phrase like that Echizen kid too.

Trying to remember if the male was any good he gave up deciding to ask for a match and to hell with it.

"Oi! Hyoutei punk have a match with me!" Not the most eloquent way of putting it but it worked, whatever. He just wanted a god damn match.

Receiving a noncommittal look that vaguely irked Kirihara the dirty blonde half shrugged before getting to his feet. "Gekkokujou," the male muttered, or at least that's what he thought, and grabbed a racket from the bag beside the teen. Taking his sweet time in reaching the court the junior ace thought he was doing it on purpose, the prick, knowing he was anxious for a match.

Gripping his poor racket harder his fingers ached absently in protest. Come on he didn't have time for this! Nearly growling from impatience at the Hyoutei regular's relaxed movements the adrenaline beat inside Kirihara's body pounding in his ears. This punk's playing skills better be worth it…

_Finally_ they were ready.

"Smooth or rough?" His opponent asked now vaguely grinning and apparently finally getting into the feeling of the upcoming match. About damn time too.

"Rough." He smirked. Funny how that's how he liked a match _and_ sex.

Loosing the toss up Kirihara didn't real give a rats ass instead readying himself on his side of the court green eyes focusing on his opponent. Oh was he eager to see how this kid played; hopefully the Hyoutei prestige wasn't for naught.

Mushroom head over there (his haircut reminded him of a mushroom) locked eyes with him for a moment before swiftly raising his hand and serving the ball. With that it finally began.

* * *

_30-Love!_

Shit. Okay so he'd underestimated this kid a bit, no worries. He was fast and ruthless, so what, he was too.

* * *

_4 games to 3! _

Behind one match, fuck! Concentrate Kirihara, you're a fucking Rikkai regular you can beat this punk no problem!

* * *

That cocky Hyoutei mushroom hadn't even said a thing yet and he was winning. Tch.

"What, cant concentrate with a little banter?" Jeering, a bit loudly, Kirihara slammed the ball back aiming for the others leg.

"You're just not worth my breath."

Twitch. Asshole can say that and not get hit. Blood filling his eyes the green eyed second year growled throwing his strength into returning the ball. He'd win this.

* * *

_4 games to 4!_

Hah!

"How's your leg mushroom?!" He was yelling now far too into his bloodshot mode for anything else. The faint bit of blood coloring his opponents left leg only fueling it more.

Receiving nothing besides a blank look and a strong return of the ball it was obvious the injury was nothing to the other.

"Fine."

Glaring at the ball which had just landed out of his reach a string of curses left the Rikkai regulars mouth. Oh he'd litter that piece of shit in blood!

* * *

_5 games to 4!_

Even with injuries covering various parts of his body he still played just as fierce! What the hell?!

"Feeling faint yet rich brat? Don't get cocky yet!" Another yell.

All he got for his banters worth was a smirk.

* * *

_6 games to 5! Game set and match, Hiyoshi!_

What? No. No! He had not just lost god fucking damn it! No, no, no, no!

Eyes widening in fury Kirihara didn't even notice the winner approaching him. Instead the teen was shaking balling his fists even tighter than they already were. How did he loose?!

Standing in front of the furious individual the Hyoutei regular faintly smirked. "An interesting match. You're not as good as your sempai's either, funny."

That was _it_.

Standing up his eyes still bloodshot he slammed his finger into the others chest. "Don't be so cocky! You fucking won, big damn whoop! Play me again and I'll show you who's not as good as their sempai's!" Getting in his face, literally, Kirihara was about to lose it big time.

Arching an eyebrow the taller teen said nothing only serving to piss Kirihara off even more.

Opening his mouth to retort, his whole hand now pressed against the others chest ready to push, he was interrupted.

"Akaya!"

Oh shit. Sanada. Had he seen the match?

Pausing dead in his tracks Kirihara slowly turned his head to see his fukubuchou who looked none too happy. Dropping his hand from the others chest and closing his mouth all he could think was 'shit.' "Why are you here?" Muttering back angrily he obviously wasn't thinking clearly yet.

Sensing the tension that was already building between the two Rikkai regulars the Hyoutei regular glanced between the two before leaving with a muttered 'gekokujou.'

Ignoring the blonde Sanada took a step forward a frown clearly etched onto his straight features. "Akaya," he said a warning tone entering his voice.

"What? Christ, can't you leave me be for one damn second!" Unwisely not heeding the unspoken warning Kirihara took a step closer too. He was pissed off and now was not the time for his fukubuchou's shit!

Frown darkening even more the cap wearing male only stood there looking highly displeased. "You lost Akaya. Why were you playing in an unofficial match with that Hyoutei member? This is not acceptable."

Rolling his eyes Kirihara said nothing in return only grinding his teeth.

"Akaya!" Obviously not happy with being annoying Sanada narrowed his eyes slightly. "You were acting close with him as well. Explain yourself." It was obvious he had seen the interaction with the two second years; perhaps jealous of it.

"What, _Genichirou_?" Kirihara snarled the others first name mockingly. He was pissed off god damn it! To god damn _hell_ with manners and keeping up of appearances. "Jealous of a little match?"

Glaring into those coal black eyes of the fukubuchou a flash of furry flew across them yet left just as quickly. Sanada took a step closer and then another until he was mere inches from Kirihara. "Akaya," speaking the name softly yet dangerously firm his arm darted out to grip the others forearm. Hard.

Wrenching his arm away, or at least he attempted and failed, a growl left said males throat. "Let the fuck go." Narrowing his eyes even more when the grip around his arm only tightened he spoke louder, repeating himself. "I said let go!"

"No."

Finding himself even more infuriated at the one word refusal he yanked his arm again in a futile action. Damn brute had all the strength of an ox or something when he wanted to use it. Asshole was leaving a bruise too.

"Then what the hell do you want?" Gritting his teeth as the words bit past his lips Kirihara felt what little control he had left fading fast. He had just lost a match for crying out loud! Yeah, that was why he was mad. It had nothing to do with how _his_ fukubuchou was all buddy buddy with Yukimura.

Tch, Sanada was being the jealous one. Not him.

Though after a few more seconds of complete silence with the idiot staring at him in that pissed off way of his he realized he wouldn't get an answer. At least not here or now. But you know what that was even more fucking annoying then the two words he had said in the last minute or so.

Feeling that invisible string of his control snap the second year did something completely idiotic. He raised his arm that still held his racket and struck out, literally, at Sanada. With all his anger too.

Except when he thought he should have felt the racket pelt Sanada's flesh it didn't. All he heard was the _thunk_ as it hit the cold concrete and felt the sting of his wrist held in a vice-grip while his other arm was suddenly free. Blinking slowly through bloodshot eyes Kirihara turned his head to realize that his racket lay uselessly on the ground a few feet away.

Not only had he tried to _hit_ the infamous fukubuchou but he had failed. Shit.

Suddenly feeling his now trapped wrist tugged harshly it took him a moment to realize that Sanada was walking away and dragging him with him. Literally pulling the far shorter male along towards a destination he could only guess would be devoid of anyone. All he could think were the words; 'oh fuck.'

* * *

Being practically thrown into Sanada's room Kirihara's head hit the bookcase painfully. Growing and bringing a hand up to rub his head he glared as the owner walked in. "What the fuck?!"

Striding up to the shorter male Sanada only raised his hand to slap him across the face.

Closing his eyes as the hand connected with his face he bit his lip his head thrown to the side by the slap.

Bastard, so this was how it was going to go down.

Not speaking a word the fukubuchou continued hitting his kouhai, slapping him once more, hitting his ribs, banging his head against the bookcase, and generally inflicting pain. There was no expression besides a blank one covering his face which only meant he was beyond pissed. Nothing but pain was promised in that look.

Shirt being unceremoniously ripped off Kirihara felt something snap.

………

"Would you fucking quit it?!" Grabbing Sanada's wrist in an attempt to stop that hand from moving his green eyes glared upwards at the taller male. "For once stop for a damn second, I'm tired of this shit! You're such an ass!"

Pausing to kick out at him the second year continued faster knowing the thin ice he had stepped onto.

"Act fucking nicer to me! You're the bitch to _Yukimura_ all the time aren't you?" Spitting out his buchou's name like a curse he didn't care he'd regret that.

Slammed once more against the bookcase there was only one way to describe Sanada's expression as he pinned Kirihara there. Cold fury. This wasn't going to end well.

"Nicer? You want _nice_? Too damn bad Akaya." Practically growling out the words the cap wearing individual finished tearing off Kirihara's shirt and tossed it.

Opening his mouth to retort it was only invaded by his fukubchou's tongue which swirled around his mouth roughly. A hand grabbed his wrist and pulled it above his head while another one yanked his shorts off leaving him in a pair of boxers. Taken aback only for a minute he struggled against the grip on his wrists.

Not breaking the hold one bit the owner of the hand continued ravaging the others mouth his free hand yanking the boxers down too.

Blurs were all that was comprehensible next. Nails against Kirihara's skin digging in painfully to leave marks, rough dominating kisses, and that _brush_ against his most sensitive area.

Oh dear god.

He wanted more of that, more of _everything_, and he wanted it fucking now thank you very much.

Throwing away all restraint the seaweed headed boy brought his tongue to roll against the one currently invading his mouth. Hips bucking as that area was touched again a low moan left his lips the struggles to free his hands renewed. This wasn't enough!

"You're jealous."

Muttering as he scraped his teeth against the small neck Sanada said nothing else. Instead he put his attention into biting said neck hard enough to leave a mark.

Letting his eye twitch at that Kirihara winced before finally getting his hands free. "Tch. Dream on." About to say more he couldn't as…._ah_! Now it was being stroked, god!

Sanada's strong powerful hands stroked swiftly and almost roughly as he worked Kirihara towards a climax. That answer wasn't acceptable at all.

Writhing under those hands absolutely nothing mattered to the teen besides how fucking good those ministrations felt.

Except wait. They stopped. Shit, no! He was almost there!

Opening his previously closed eyes in a glare he saw only his fukubuchou's blank expression and growled frustrated at the stop. Bucking his hips slightly he frowned.

"Say it." Demanding a better response the others attempt at creating friction was ignored. "You're jealous."

"What? No!" Defiant as ever.

"Say. It." Keeping a hand just above the others ready and engorged member he openly showed he wasn't going to touch it any time soon.

Tired of hanging on the edge he finally yelled what Sanada wanted. "Urgh….fuck! Fine! I'm jealous you ass!"

A frown. Not quite it.

Moving his hands to pinch Kirihara's nipples they fully ignored the still needy cock. Twisting them roughly the frustrated gasp from the second year only egged him on.

"Cursing isn't allowed Akaya."

Starting to roll his eyes Kirihara stopped as nails now dug into the already abused nipples. All he frickin' wanted was to have his relief! Jesus! Fine he'd play this stupid game.

"I'm jealous of you and Yukimua! Happy now?"

"No."

What the---?!

Unable to say even a word a searing pain entered his backside as his fukubchou entered him roughly and without warning. When did he even get undressed enough for this?! Groaning his insides throbbed in protest of the invading member.

Clearly not willing to wait until his kouhai was ready Sanada thrust in and out in quick succession his mouth once more roaming the others neck. He never did like to wait.

Wrapping his hands around the taller males neck Kirihara soon found it hard as hell to stay standing like this. He was constantly being pounded into for Christ's sake! Settling on leaning against the bookcase for support the groans quickly turned into pleasurable moans joining that of his sempai.

As the thrusts continued nothing existed anymore besides the teens two pounding bodies and the pulsing heat within them striving for a release. Minutes and it grew, that heat within them, making the thrusts rougher.

Blinding pleasure rocked the younger one's body and finally he climaxed his seed shooting up to messy Sanada's chest. Feeling the tightening of his walls Sanada too reached his peak releasing his milky white essence into Kirihara.

Gathering up the energy to smirk Kirihara succeeded. "Now who's the jealous one?"

* * *

Ugh. Fail. Epic fail. This was half written for months but I could never bring myself to finish it for some reason. Hope someone likes this though I don't particularly like how it came out. Not sure if this even makes much sense.

Review please, comments are appreciated highly.


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